


claim

by kinkykawa



Series: youngblood (miyacest one-shots) [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Miya Osamu, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Fox Alphas and Bunny Omegas, Incest, M/M, Omega Miya Atsumu, PIV Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Osamu, Twincest, Vaginal Sex, afab language, miyacest, ojiro aran - Freeform, suna rintarou - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkykawa/pseuds/kinkykawa
Summary: He’s not yours,he thinks vindictively, jaw clenched to stop himself from baring his teeth. Atsumu doesn’t belong to anyone but him.(Never mind that ever since their coming-of-age ceremonies, their parents have been murmuring things aboutmarriagesandcourt weddingsandpotential alpha suitors.Never mind that their visitor is clearly trying to woo Atsumu, just like the other princelings and young royals who’ve been visiting the Inarizaki court over the last several months. Never mind that Atsumu’s neck is still bare, free of a mating mark.No, Atsumu doesn’t belong to anyone else but Osamu. Both of them know this.)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu
Series: youngblood (miyacest one-shots) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933474
Comments: 7
Kudos: 460





	claim

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally written as a commission that included prompts for omegaverse, fox/bunny characters, breeding kink, and trans!atsumu, but the commission fell through so i'm uploading it on my own. 
> 
> please mind the tags before reading! this is a royalty au in which alphas have fox traits and omegas have bunny traits, although i keep those pretty vague/glossed over. i use AFAB terms to refer to atsumu's body (author is not cis). not yet beta'd, so will fix any errors later on.

Atsumu looks good in red.

Osamu knows this, of course, but he still thinks it every time his twin shows up to court wearing red, fabric spilling over his body. Atsumu has never been shy about courting attention, making people look at him; he _wants_ them to look at him. Wants alphas to want him and wants omegas to want to _be_ him. He’s a vain little thing, is Atsumu; vain and pretty and selfish and almost-cruel.

But that’s why Osamu adores him.

Atsumu is in red again, furisode embroidered in gold and white — a tree branch, Osamu realizes absent-mindedly, sprawled over the fabric with small, intricate flowers and falling petals. The skirt is long, dragging just a little over the floor, _almost_ like the hikizuri the geisha wear, and Osamu knows that’s on purpose. From his seat on the dais, Osamu watches his twin throw his head back and laugh, hand on the arm of the visiting alpha prince. His long, soft ears flop back, and Osamu’s hands twitch with the urge to cross the room and grab one, tug on it harshly.

 _He’s not yours,_ he thinks vindictively, jaw clenched to stop himself from baring his teeth. Atsumu doesn’t belong to anyone but him.

(Never mind that ever since their coming-of-age ceremonies, their parents have been murmuring things about _marriages_ and _court weddings_ and _potential alpha suitors._ Never mind that their visitor is clearly trying to woo Atsumu, just like the other princelings and young royals who’ve been visiting the Inarizaki court over the last several months. Never mind that Atsumu’s neck is still bare, free of a mating mark.

No, Atsumu doesn’t belong to anyone else but Osamu. Both of them know this.)

Osamu’s still trying to tear his eyes away from his twin when someone reaches out and swats at one twitching fox ear. He flinches, turning to the side with a growl halfway to his throat, only to find Suna smirking at him knowingly.

“Down, alpha,” their friend chides, teasing. He flicks at Osamu’s ear again, both of which have flattened back against his scalp. Suna’s own fox ears are flicking minutely. Osamu exhales sharply and shakes his head, yanking his attention away from blonde hair and red fabric across the court lounge. He smiles tightly, returning his focus to the conversation he, Suna, and Aran had been having about — god, he doesn’t even know anymore. But red keeps moving in his peripheral vision, and it distracts him just a little, just enough.

“—and what about you, Osamu?”

“Hm?” He blinks, looking up at Aran and trying not to let his confusion show. He’s mostly successful, about to bullshit a response, but then red interrupts them as Atsumu appears and throws himself into Osamu’s lap.

It takes every ounce of discipline inside Osamu not to reach out and drag Atsumu closer, especially when that _scent_ hits. Atsumu usually smells sweet, like warm cocoa and sugar, but now — now there’s another, lingering scent, something sharp and citrus and _wrong._ It’s all over him, clinging to his hair and his clothes, and Osamu has to make a conscious effort not to let his own coffee scent overwhelm the air in an attempt to _get rid of it now, now, now._

Maybe Suna’s right, and he does need to calm down. His ears have flattened back against his head again, twitching in obvious irritation. Hopefully he can pass it off as general annoyance at his twin’s impudent behavior.

One arm eventually curls faux-casually around Atsumu’s waist, with the flimsy excuse of making sure his bratty twin doesn’t tumble off his lap. Atsumu’s regaling them with a summary of his conversation with the visiting prince, laughing lightly at the man’s awkward mannerisms and too-blunt nature. Suna’s listening in amusement, while Aran keeps glancing around to make sure no one’s overhearing them. Osamu’s hand tightens briefly in Atsumu’s waist, and he would think his twin was just being his usual careless, flighty self, except.

Except one of Atsumu’s hands — the right one, pinned between Atsumu’s thigh and Osamu’s stomach — starts creeping lower, innocuously, millimeter by millimeter. Then just when Osamu opens his mouth to make some cutting remark, Atsumu presses down _just_ a bit, right over Osamu’s crotch.

His twin carries on teasing Aran, but Osamu can feel the slight pressure of clever fingers on his cock through layers of fabric. He can smell the subtle shift in Atsumu’s scent, deeper and slightly spiced. And he knows now that everything — the showy red robes, the brattiness, the flirtations with someone-not-him — it’s all been for show and it’s all been for _him._

Osamu digs his fingers into Atsumu’s waist once, as a promise.

He’ll get Atsumu back for this when they’re alone.

Later, after they’ve put up with as much conversation as they can, after they’ve made their excuses and retired to their rooms for the evening—

The pretty red fabric slides off Atsumu’s skin as Osamu gets his hands everywhere, gets his mouth on Atsumu’s scent gland and _sucks._ His own scent is heavy in the air, sharp coffee mingling with Atsumu’s answering cocoa until the heady mix is almost dizzying. He doesn’t bother undressing Atsumu fully, just tears the layers open so he can get to as much skin as possible, ducking his head to bite into Atsumu’s shoulder as one hand dives between his legs.

 _Gods,_ Atsumu’s so wet. Practically dripping for it, slick all over his thighs and now Osamu’s palm. He brings his hand up, pushes two fingers into Atsumu’s mouth and makes him taste it.

“So wet,” he murmurs, easing in a third finger and revelling in the way Atsumu runs his tongue over them, licking them clean. “So fuckin’ slick for me, aren’tcha? Needy little omega.”

There’s a faint scrape of teeth, and a flash of playfulness in Atsumu’s eyes. Osamu growls a little, yanking his hand back and shoving his twin towards the bed.

“Brat,” he bites out, bullying his way between Atsumu’s legs, spreading them open and exposing his pretty cunt. He doesn’t wait for Atsumu to protest — doesn’t give Atsumu the time — ducking down immediately and getting his mouth on his twin. The first swipe of his tongue has Atsumu keening, hips jerking so hard that Osamu has to pin him down to the mattress.

(Not that that’s a problem. Osamu knows well by now that Atsumu loves being manhandled, loves it when Osamu postures like an alpha and makes him take it. No one else gets him like this — open, aroused, _submissive._ No one else gets to have their way with this boy.)

Atsumu tries to restrain himself, hands clenched in the sheets, so Osamu rewards him by doubling his efforts to eat Atsumu out so thoroughly he’s shaking. His twin whimpers, little hitched gasps and high noises, long ears stiff and flat on the bed. His hips twitch under Osamu’s relentless, greedy assault, desperate for more, and when Osamu pushes two fingers into his slick hole and thrusts—

“ _Fuck,_ ” Atsumu sobs, voice cracking as his thighs squeeze and he _comes,_ slick spilling over Osamu’s fingers and the sheets. Osamu works him through it, four fingers now, the squelching noise loud and obscene. He doesn’t let up until Atsumu whines — not for Osamu to stop, but for _more_.

“‘Samu,” Atsumu begs, struggling to turn around — to _present,_ like a good omega — “come _on,_ need ya — need your cock in me — knot me, _please,_ need it—”

“So pretty when ya beg,” Osamu murmurs, half-mocking, and Atsumu isn’t even embarrassed, just moans for it. “Want my knot, is that it? Needy omega wants to be bred?”

“ _Yes._ ” Atsumu isn’t in heat, not for a while yet, but the _thought_ of it — of Atsumu, swollen with their pups, fucked and bred from Osamu’s knot, _gods_ Osamu wants it. Wants to fuck Atsumu full of cum until he’s dripping, until he’s put a whole litter in his twin. Maybe he _will_ fuck Atsumu in heat, ruin him for anyone else, because they belong to each other.

The lurid little fantasy just heightens Osamu’s arousal, and he’s not gentle as he rubs the head of his cock against slick folds, then sinks into Atsumu to the hilt. It’s always so good, that first sweet slide inside Atsumu, cunt so hot and wet and _aching_ to be filled. Atsumu’s voice breaks in three places as he cries out. Osamu starts fucking into him, hips snapping, hands around Atsumu’s wrists to pin him down so Osamu can _take._ The _need_ to fuck Atsumu — to mount, claim, _breed_ — to _wreck_ the omega — it surges through Osamu so hard it’s overwhelming. He leans down, licking and biting at what skin he can reach, kissing Atsumu open-mouthed and clumsy. The room is loud with the sound of their panting, of Atsumu’s whines, of the sound of skin on skin. Their mingled scents are so thick that Osamu half-hopes it’ll never wear off Atsumu’s skin.

“Gonna come,” he gasps, reaching down with one hand to grip Atsumu’s thigh hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, ‘Tsumu, so _good_ — you’re so good for me, aren’tcha? Pretty little omega, gonna take my knot — take my cum — wanna breed you — come for me, c’mon—”

Atsumu twists one hand free and clamps it over his mouth to muffle his scream as he climaxes a second (or third? Fourth?) time, clenching around Osamu and spilling slick all over. Osamu’s fangs sink into Atsumu’s shoulder, knot swelling and catching at Atsumu’s entrance. He thrusts a few more times before burying himself into tight heat, as deep as he can get. He comes gasping Atsumu’s name, dragging his mouth over the mark he’s left on his twin’s skin.

(One day, he thinks hazily. One day, they’ll be more than this.)

“Alpha,” Atsumu whines softly, and Osamu hushes him with a kiss. One of Atsumu’s hands wanders down, brushing over his still-flat stomach. Osamu nips lightly at one soft ear, then presses his mouth to Atsumu’s again, slow and sweet.

(One day, someday, soon.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to leave a comment (anonymous or otherwise) if you liked it XD and come find me on twitter as [@kinkykawa_](https://twitter.com/kinkykawa_) to say hi and talk about more haikyuu, vld, bnha stuff.


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